


Team Mutual Support System

by Obsessivecompulsivereadr



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Male-Female Friendship, References to codependent behaviors, References to manipulative behavior, discussion of therapy, references to trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessivecompulsivereadr/pseuds/Obsessivecompulsivereadr
Summary: “Are we developing a mutual support system here?”“Why not?” she asked.  “We’ve both been fucked over by people who were supposed to love us.  Who better to understand me than you?”





	Team Mutual Support System

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm supposed to be writing for Ghosts, but this has been in my drafts for a long time, and I got some inspiration so I finished it. 
> 
> If anybody feels that there should be a tag that isn't there, let me know and I'll add.
> 
> I know that the original spelling in the original work was Isabel, but that spelling bothers me since it's the only one you're able to use for Isobel.

When Isobel Evans texted him, “get your cute ass to the Crashdown at 6:30 tonight, Manes,” Alex really hadn’t considered arguing with her about it. It wouldn’t do any good.

Liz had been complaining that he had been spending too much time on the data they’d retrieved from the second prison, and she was right. It hadn’t taken as long to decipher the information as it had the first time, but every time he unlocked a new Manes secret, it opened another spiderweb of coverups, and he’d admitted to both Michael and Kyle that he couldn’t ever see them getting to a point where the conspiracy ended. 

Alex _was_ spending too much time on the project, especially when he could spend that time with Michael. 

But Michael had been just as determined since the second prison had been liberated. The relief in Michael was palpable when they got those aliens out, all twenty-seven of them, and back to Roswell safely. Most of them needed hospitals, and Liz and Kyle had taken it upon themselves to provide a safe place for them where they could be treated for their physical traumas. 

They would never be the same again, but at least they were free. It didn’t make up for the horrors of Caulfield, but it was a start at healing them as a people. 

Isobel and Max had finally joined the project, and while Isobel was helping the found survivors, figuring out their powers, Max was providing them with some back doors into safer housing situations. It had taken a lot of convincing, and a lot of fights with Michael, to get him to agree, but in the end, he’d admitted to Alex that it had been satisfying to help. 

Some of the aliens hadn’t survived their rescue attempt, due to advanced age and illness, but the majority made it out. Liz had been forced to consider using her serum on aliens whose powers showed considerable threats, both to humans and other aliens. They’d found a few that had powers comparable to the alien whose tumor producing powers caused cancer, and most of those had voluntarily taken Liz’s new and improved serum because they wanted to live a life free of the possibility that they would accidentally kill someone.

Others were still thinking about it, and Liz was willing to let them make the choice unless they chose to use their powers as Noah had. They didn’t want to harm anyone either. They just wanted to live. 

So, while Alex might have been spending too much time on his research, Michael really didn’t have much room to talk because he was usually right beside him and Kyle in the bunker. 

Tonight, neither one of them were working, but they weren’t together because Michael was currently driving to Carlsbad for an evening group therapy session with the therapist that Kyle had set him up with. Michael would have had some options in the Roswell area, but he wanted to go where he wouldn’t be confronted with people he’d probably been in bar fights with, and Alex could see his point in the matter. It wouldn’t do Michael a lot of good going to group if he was uncomfortable the entire time. 

At least it was a shorter drive for him than it was for Alex, whenever he had to drive into Albuquerque for his own therapy appointments. Michael said the drive gave him a chance to think and that it was soothing taking in the road and the desert around it. Alex could go with him to individual appointments, and often did, but he couldn’t attend group due to privacy issues.

That was okay, because Alex thought it might be good for Michael to have something for himself that wasn’t this _town_. Something that was his own.

He and Michael were getting to know each other, individually, and on how they wanted to work as a couple. They weren’t great or perfect, but neither expected that of the other. They were taking things slowly and talking. 

Michael still had the nightmares that woke him up screaming, but now as a solution, he would drive to the cabin at 3 am and would sit with Alex and talk about them. Alex would most likely be up anyway, so the invitation was always open. The conversation about his mother had been the hardest talk Alex had ever had in his lifetime, and he had been shocked that some of Michael’s dreams involved watching Alex die at Caulfield. 

Sometimes, he held Michael for hours until Michael sobbed himself to sleep. Other nights it was Alex with the problem. Those nights, it was Alex with dreams that woke him, gasping for breath and trying to remember that he wasn’t in Iraq. Sometimes, he woke from dreams where he tried to escape his father. Whichever it was on a particular night, it always involved Alex trying to stop the blood rushing to his head and the heartbeat that threatened to pulse out of his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut to stem off flashbacks that haunted him. Trying to countdown out of the panic attack that often made him wonder if this one was finally _the one_ that would do him in. 

Those nights, Michael settled in with Alex on the couch, summoned by sudden, alarming texts or calls, and held _him_. 

The nights Michael wanted to drink so much that he shook with anger at himself were nights they both struggled to get through. 

Michael was so careful now, because he knew that any injury for him meant acetone… and acetone meant trouble for him. He might take daily precautions to avoid alcohol, but it wasn’t like he could completely avoid acetone. It was the only thing they’d found to treat pain for them. So, Michael did his best to not get hurt… rather than throwing his body at anything and everything that could cause a physical pain to match the jagged, emotional one inside him.

Alex was so proud of him, and the first time he’d told Michael had led to one of their…_incidents_.

They had agreed to avoid sex for a while, because _both_ of them had spent too much of their life using it as a coping mechanism. They’d spent too much time using it against _each other_ as well. They’d spent too much time using it instead of their words, and neither one of them would survive going down that road again.

But Alex was only human, and literally the only _human _in their relationship, and he couldn’t be expected to look at Michael’s soft, stubbled face and loving eyes whenever he smiled at Alex and _not_ want to climb him like a tree. 

Alex had _limits_. 

And Michael Guerin had been pushing against every one of them for over ten years now.

They were going slow… but when they did kiss, it was like Alex was seventeen again and teenage Michael Guerin was flooding his senses with emotions that had always been denied him. Michael knew everything about what Alex liked, as if from muscle memory, and he used it to his advantage. A few times since they’d gotten back together, it had taken every ounce of control either of them had to stop. 

The conversation about how proud he was of Michael had led to Alex getting Michael’s shirt off and horizontal on the couch before he’d come to his senses. Michael had laughed at him, until Alex pointed out that at least he’d held out longer that time that Michael usually did. Michael was known to have, on at least one occasion, had Alex half-naked and those talented and calloused hands inside Alex’s pants before they’d had the sense to back off. 

At this point, it was becoming a sort of competition with them. 

Taunting each other to see which one would cave first. 

Liz thought it was dumb. But Liz thought a lot of things Alex did were dumb, and she had since high school. She also thought that most of what Michael did was dumb, but she seemed to be more offended by _that_ because of Michael’s genius. So typically, she went in on Michael and mostly left Alex alone. Alex was privy to a lot of their dynamic, and he found it fascinating. He hadn’t even initially known about them working together to save Isobel, and he liked that Michael had someone else that could keep up with him. 

He parked his truck a short walk away from the restaurant and headed inside. His leg wasn’t giving him a lot of trouble, but he hadn’t spent much time on the prosthetic today. He’d upgraded to a recently tested device, and it seemed to fit better and cause less pain. 

He had gotten a reaming for how he’d treated his leg at Caulfield, because even though assistive devices had improved in recent years, the one he was using that day wasn’t built for some of the shit he’d put it through. The physical therapist had lectured him on the subsequent injury, and the PSAS department was just about done with his shit, or so they’d threatened that day. The newer device was more comfortable and allowed him to spend more time on it. It helped that the people who developed the devices loved having military guinea pigs to test them on, so he sometimes got to try newer, shinier ones that Michael loved to study.

Isobel was sitting by herself in the corner, sunglasses on her face, soda and fries in front of her. She, Max, and Alex had all made a pact to cut down on their drinking, since they were the people Michael was closest to and would be around the most. Michael said it helped, knowing that they were doing it, but he’d never asked it of them. 

Alex slid into the booth across from her and stole a fry, “Hey.”

Isobel slid her sunglasses down, “get your own fries.”

Alex grinned and popped it into his mouth. 

“Have you climbed my brother yet?”

Alex choked and reached for her soda. 

Isobel cackled, “No,” taking the glass away from him. “That’s what you get, asshole.”

Alex swallowed and glared at her. “It’s none of your business if I have climbed your brother.”

“Well, maybe not. But if I practiced more, I bet I could get into Michael’s head at an inopportune moment and ruin it for both of you.”

“Don’t you dare,” Alex pointed at her and stole another fry. 

He placed his order when the younger, part-time waitress came to their table. Neither of the Ortecho sisters had been working there lately because the family was taking time off to handle Rosa’s reappearance. He doubted Isobel would agree to meet here if she thought Rosa would be working tonight.

Isobel smiled, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

He’d grown closer to Isobel ever since he and Michael had gotten back together. She’d come to Alex asking for help learning how to use a gun, confessing that she didn’t trust her powers anymore and didn’t want to feel vulnerable all the time. She’d told him that she didn’t want Max to know, because he’d spent too much time protecting her when she needed to protect herself, but she agreed for them to let Michael know. Alex didn’t want to have any more secrets from him, especially one that directly affected his family. 

She’d admitted that she was still at little angry with them, for lying to her for years. She’d let Michael back in first, which had surprised both Max and Michael. Alex also knew Michael was helping her fine tune her new skill of blowing things up, because she took a sometimes-concerning satisfaction at being able to do it. 

“I just needed someone to talk to who doesn’t think I’m about to fall apart at the seams.”

Alex completely understood that. He’d felt that all through his recovery from losing his leg. 

He winked, “I’ve got your back. What’s going on?”

“Everything really,” Isobel tossed a fry back onto her plate, like she’d lost her appetite. 

“Start at the beginning then.”

“There really isn’t a beginning unless we discuss Noah again, and I’m not in the mood for that.” 

Alex nodded. 

“Do you remember that alien we met in the second prison. The one that could read minds and see memories?”

“Yeah, I remember her,” Alex said quietly. 

Alya had been one of a kind, and what had bothered him about her wasn’t that she was dangerous, because she wasn’t. But her power unsettled people. Her lack of restraint and understanding of what humans would call tact didn’t help. The mix of traits led her to discovering what a person’s most painful memories or thoughts were, the ones that shaped their personalities and decisions and relationships, and then she put them on display for anyone in the surrounding area. 

Michael had steered clear of her from the very beginning, as far as Alex knew. At least, he’d never mentioned to Alex if Alya had said anything to him.

Alex’s first introduction to her had involved her informing him that he was correct that nobody considered him their ‘_person_’ and that Alex would have to learn to be that for himself.

Michael hadn’t been around to hear that, which Alex had been grateful for. If he had, he would have put all the blame on himself, and he might have relapsed into drinking. Alex had nodded at her and had just walked away, because at the time he hadn’t known what else to do. 

It was his worst fear made known to everyone, but it’s not as if Alex didn’t know that he wasn’t anyone’s _person_. He’d learned that a long time ago.

“She looked at me, and then she told me that I don’t love myself enough, and that I _can’t_ love myself enough.” Isobel shook her hair out behind her and then looked at him. “She said it’s because I put too much of myself into a man who can’t do the same in return.” 

“What man?” Alex asked, confused, because it had been months since they’d met her, and he wasn’t aware of anyone else Isobel had been involved with.

“My first thought was Noah, but she actually meant Max,” Isobel said quietly. “Not romantically, of course. She looked at him, and then back at me, and Max’s face just fell. I mean, I wasn’t at all shocked when she told him that who he loved most in the world was Liz, though I was a bit taken aback that she also said he was right that Liz is too good for him.” 

Alex snorted because he hadn’t heard that part of the story before. He was surprised that Liz hadn’t told him about it yet, because it seemed like something she would get a kick out of even if she never pressed it with Max.

Isobel continued, “But for her to suggest that he doesn’t love me as much as I love him, Max didn’t take that very well.” 

“Is that what she meant by that though? That he doesn’t love you as much? It doesn’t sound like that.”

Isobel shrugged, “I don’t know. But the idea that I don’t love myself enough. That I can’t? _That _bothered me.” 

“Do you think that’s true?” Alex asked as he dug into his own meal. 

“I wonder if that’s why Noah was able to do what he did. Because I didn’t have enough security in my psyche or in my head, or whatever,” Isobel waved with dismissal. 

Alex reached for her hand, “No. You shouldn’t have had to build up those walls. Everything he did to you was on him, not you.” 

Isobel rolled her eyes, “I know.”

“_Do you?_ It took almost a decade to accept that what my father did to me was on him and not because I was somehow inferior and deserved it. Your abuse lasted just as long, and it ended not that long ago.” 

Isobel looked at him, “Point taken.”

“Was this the day Max and Michael got into that big fight?”

“Yeah. Max wasn’t leaving me alone, trying to somehow make it up to me, which isn’t possible of course, and Michael kept telling him to stay out of it and leave me alone.”

“That sounds like him,” Alex smiled. “One day they will get along.”

Isobel smirked, “I long for that day.” 

Alex began eating again.

“So, what did she say to you? I’ve noticed that you haven’t mentioned that to any of us.” 

“It’s not important.” Alex sipped his drink.

“According to Michael, when you’ve decided something’s not important, it just means you don’t want to talk about it,” Isobel raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to have to have a talk with him about revealing my secrets,” Alex joked.

“Michael also says you haven’t even told him what Alya said.”

Alex pushed his food to the side and blew out a breath. “It’s nothing I didn’t already know.” 

“So why doesn’t Michael know?” Isobel gently kicked her foot out at him but hit the prosthetic. “Oh my god, I’m sorry!” 

Alex laughed, “You should try harder next time. I mean, that didn’t even hurt.” 

“Michael’s right about you,” she glared.

“While I would love to ask what that means, I think for my own sanity I’ll keep those questions to myself.”

Isobel smirked, “So, you should tell someone, and since I’m here, it should be me.” 

Alex huffed. “You actually might be the _one_ person I should tell.”

“Why is that?” 

“Because of that conversation you had with Michael and Max. About Noah. You mentioned that before everything went down, he had the gall to tell you that you were his person and that he wanted to be yours.” 

“Ah,” Isobel leaned back. “Yes. I remember that. It’s hard to forget.”

“What actually happened?”

“He always made me feel so guilty for having the connection that I have with Max. He played me well, but now I know that it was intentional. I always tried to brush it off as a twin thing, because of course, I thought he was human. He said he talked to Max about what I would need on a particular night that I’d just been through some things.”

“Things he probably influenced?”

“Maybe. I don’t really know. But Max told him my favorite movie as a kid, and he had it waiting for me, and he gave this big speech about how I was his person. The one person he would do anything for. And he understood that Max was mine but that he wanted it to be _him_.”

“Asshole,” Alex interjected.

“_Total_ asshole. The entire time he was manipulating me. But that conversation, I’ve always wondered about. Did he really mean that Rosa was his person? Since he was connected to her through me? Was that speech just him talking about Rosa? Or was he mad that Max was my person and then taking it out on me… as me? I will _never_ know any of this.”

It had to be disheartening for her to know that she would never get the answers she needed. Alex felt like that sometimes, regarding his mother, but it wasn’t on the same level as the dissonance that Isobel had endured. 

“But then, when she said that Max couldn’t love me the way I love him, I don’t know how to deal with that,” Isobel said softly. 

Alex reached for her hand again, “Okay, so here goes. Alya told me that I was right in my assumption that nobody considers me their person, so she suggested that I learn to be that for myself.” 

“But Michael,” Isobel squeezed his hand. “You’re definitely Michael’s.” 

“No, I don’t think I am,” Alex said. “And that doesn’t mean that I don’t think he loves me, because he does. I _know_ he loves me. I know he’s _in love_ with me. I don’t _for one second of the day_ doubt that.” 

“But isn’t that what that means?” Isobel asked. 

“I don’t think so. It means someone that you’d do _anything_ for. There are things about me, things about our history, that have put some limits on our relationship. I think there are parts of me that he can’t handle sometimes. But he _tries_, and that’s what’s important to me. That’s what I love most about him. He is able to look past those things and love me anyway.” 

Isobel opened her mouth to speak.

“_You’re_ his person, Isobel. You always have been.” 

She closed her mouth, “How do you know that?”

“He would give up anything for you. He would do _anything_ for you.” 

“He wouldn’t give _you_ up.” 

“Wouldn’t he?” Alex asked quietly. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not important,” Alex waved away the question.

“Alex,” Isobel warned. 

“Honestly, I don’t want to elaborate because I don’t want you to think I blame you. Because I don’t. I blame me.”

“What are you talking about?” Isobel leaned forward. “If there’s something I’ve said or done, I’ll fix it.”

He smiled at her, “Seriously, Isobel, there’s nothing _to fix_.” 

Alex was being truthful. He and Michael had mended their relationship, and part of that had been talking about Michael choosing to move on from him. He’d admitted to Alex that conversations with both Max and Isobel had factored into his decision but that Isobel’s suggestion that he move on had been the deciding factor. 

Alex couldn’t even be angry with her, because what she’d suggested had been in Michael’s own best interests, and Alex would never begrudge someone putting Michael first. He’d made peace with Michael’s interpretation of that being that he should move on with Maria, at least before Michael realized that it wasn’t the kind of future he’d wanted. 

The future that he’d wanted was with Alex.

“Are you seriously going to make me threaten to read you.”

Alex pointed at her, “You won’t do that because you promised Michael that you were going to respect boundaries since none of yours were respected.”

Isobel deflated. “So now _I _have to have a talk with Michael about divulging secrets.” 

Alex laughed at her expression. 

“The truth is that I’ve never been anybody’s person, Isobel,” Alex continued once he’d sobered from the laughing. “Not even my mother cared enough to take me with her. Not even my mother thought to herself, ‘_yeah, this one… this one is mine’.”_

“Michael said that you think that way about him,” Isobel said.

“I do, but I can’t imagine when that topic came up.” 

Isobel stilled. “When he told me about his mother. He said he tried to get you to leave because he was going to die with her,” Isobel had tears in her eyes. “And you wouldn’t go.” 

“I wouldn’t. Won’t if it ever happens again. He _is_ mine,” Alex shrugged. “At least as far as I’m concerned.”

“So why won’t you believe you’re his?” she asked.

“Too much history. Too many times that I hurt him. If I hurt him again, he _would _give me up, and I would understand it. He should. I would encourage it,” Alex sipped his drink again. “Because I would never want him in a situation where he doesn’t take care of himself because of the person he’s in a relationship with. So no, I don’t think I’m his person, and I think I’m not supposed to be. But I’m content with him being mine. After all, Alya said that I have to learn to be that for myself. And she’s right.”

“Maybe that’s what I need to do too. Learn to love myself more, so that I can be my own person.”

“But then what will Michael do?” Alex smiled. “You can’t take that away from him. He won’t know what to do.” 

“So then, I develop an unhealthy codependence with him instead. Are you happy?” Isobel smirked.

“My therapist would say that you probably shouldn’t do that either. So would his, actually.” 

Isobel pretended to be exasperated, “Then I don’t know what you want from me, Manes.”

“I thought the point was for you not to care what others want from you. So that you can live your life on your own terms.”

Isobel narrowed her eyes at him. 

“What?” he asked. 

She held out a hand for him to shake, “Only if that’s what you do too. Live life on your own terms. Without caring what others want from you or what they say to you.” 

“Are we developing a mutual support system here?”

“Why not?” she asked. “We’ve both been fucked over by people who were supposed to love us. Who better to understand me than you?”

“And vice versa.” Alex shook her hand.

“Manevans,” Isobel said. “Team Manevans.”

Alex choked on his drink, “What are you talking about?”

“Come on Alex. I’m an influencer. You can’t tell me you’ve never heard of portmanteaus.” 

“So that’s the best you’ve got for us?”

“I’ve been feeling a little down, so maybe I’m not at the top of my game. But before dinner next week, I’ll have a better one for you. And possibly team shirts.”

“You wouldn’t be caught dead in a shirt with a portmanteau on it.”

Isobel pressed her hand against her chest, “I wouldn’t. But it would look better on you anyway.”

“How about Alebel?” Alex smirked, “like _bell_ on the end.” 

Isobel put her hand over her mouth with glee. “I love it. Michael will absolutely hate it.” 

Alex snorted, “Sounds as good a reason as any to use it then.”

Isobel looked him in the eye, “So, same time next week?”

Alex nodded, “Same place?”

Isobel smiled, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then left. 

Alex watched her leave and smiled at the idea of how much his life was about to improve. 


End file.
